A Bullet in the Head
by Hearts-speaking-words
Summary: "Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh." -Leonard Cohen
1. Chapter 1

**A Bullet to the Head**

"_All Change is not Growth, as all Movement is not Forward." –Ellen Glasgow_

She lifted the strap of her bag off her shoulder and dropped it and her keys by the door before beginning to loosen the scarf around her neck, "Tony?" she called out, surprised that her younger brother hadn't rushed the door for her, "Toby? Anybody home?"

A young boy with brown hair and blue eyes stepped into the doorway at the end of the hall, standing just inside the kitchen. She furrowed her brows together, noticing the more nervous than usual stance he held.

"Tony, you alright?" she asked, taking a few steps forward. The sound her jeans made as she walked seemed to roar in the silence. She looked him over and noticed the bruise forming on his face, "Honey, what happened to your chin?" she asked, only a few steps away from him.

He didn't speak until she grabbed his shoulder, "Run." He whispered looking up into her eyes with his own brimming with tears.

She gave him a confused look as fear tore through to her core, she yelped as a man she had never seen before shoved her to the floor and pulled her brother away. She looked over at the man, resting on her knees, fear causing the shake in her voice.

"Who are you?" she asked, "What do you want?"

The man looked at her with a sickening smirk on his twisted face, "Tell your brother goodbye."

"What?"

"Say goodbye."

"Why?" she asked shaking her head.

"Because all I want is you."

"So take me! Leave him alone!"

"Can't do that. Say goodbye, Rylee, you won't get another chance."

"But I-"

The shot rang through the air, making her scream and cover her mouth with her hands snapping her head in the other direction as the bullet pierced her brothers skull. She opened her eyes when she wasn't facing him and her eyesight fell on the corpses of her parents. In reaction she screamed and scurried backwards towards the counters.

The man's bloody fingertips wrapped around the brown sleeve of her jacket and yanked her to her feet. His chapped lips shoved themselves onto hers as tears made their way down her cheeks. She whimpered and shoved at him, trying to claw out of his grip but he punched her in the stomach, kissed her again, before cold cocking her with the butt of the gun. She felt to the floor, unconscious, her jacket becoming stained with the blood of her parents and her brother. The man looked up at the camera and smiled before leaning down…

The screen went fuzzy and JJ looked down at the files, "That was posted online yesterday at around 10 o'clock."

"My God," Emily Prentiss said, staring slightly in shock at the screen, "It's like a horror movie."

"Yeah, a horror movie from hell." Morgan said, his eyes averted from the screen, "How many others are there like this?"

"They said that six families, including this one, have been killed in their homes over the past eight months, the daughters of the victims were found at the original crime scene exactly where they had been kidnapped. All were dead through a mixture of asphyxiation and stabbing, but they can't find any videos of the murders."

"It sounds personal." Reid said, staring at the screen, "He goes out of his way to scar these girls before killing them, maybe returning them to where it began is his way of starting over."

"Like a reset button on a video game." Morgan said, looking at his friend.

"Pretty much, yeah." Spencer said with a nod.

"Alright, we need to get down there. JJ, how much time passes between when the families are killed and when the girls are found?"

"The time varies, the shortest was his second victim who only lasted 3 days, and the longest was the first who lasted almost a month."

"Then we've got no time to waste." Hotch said standing quickly as the others followed.

It was a small town in North Georgia; it was settled with the Mountains painted in the distance and beautiful green trees growing everywhere. There were dirt roads, and the main part of town was old fashioned with everything clustered together, side by side, and an old rail road track running through the center, a rail road track that hadn't been used in years.

The police station was small, but had enough officers to handle patrols and the minor crimes that took place, mostly on Friday and Saturday nights after football games during the fall and late nights during the summer when the teens would get restless.

The team went straight to the crime scene. Spencer and Hotch entered the house, JJ controlled the press outside, Morgan and Prentiss took the perimeter, and Rossi talked to the chief of police.

"She came through the door alone and dropped her stuff. But something was off."

"What makes you say that?"

"Her bag," Spencer continued, looking by his side, "and her scarf are a few inches away from the storage bench. Her attention was elsewhere. She called out her brother's name when she came in… When you get home from work, does Jack meet you at the door?"

"Yes." Hotch said nodding; watching him closely, "Her brother didn't meet her at the door, so she became worried."

Spencer nodded, "Her tone on the tape, she seemed almost expectant, almost like something being wrong was common, Maybe abuse?"

"Possibly." Hotch walked towards the stairs, "She was distracted enough to miss the cat." He said as he glared slightly at the dead creature laying on its side on the 5th step.

Spencer walked past Hotch and into the kitchen, "Hotch..." he said turning his head to look at the bodies of the parents, "Oh my god."

"Reid?" Hotch followed into the kitchen and saw the young genius kneeling beside the father's body.

"I know him… Hotch, that's my dad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Hotch, I'm sure. Hotch, this man is my father… and that girl is my sister… She's my sister…"

"_All the things that one has forgotten, Screams for help in dreams."-Elias Canetti_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I can honestly say I am surprised that so many people have voiced their positive opinion on this story. I know it is only the beginning and it is far too easy for a story to turn bad, but I am so happy and thankful for all of the people who have put faith in this story. When I started writing this I really doubted posting it or even finishing the first chapter, but your support has made me decide to keep this story going and make it a good one. I hope you enjoy, but this story will become very dark, very quickly. If you are uncomfortable with that, I'm sorry but turn back now. I won't be pulling any punches. Please continue to review, I love hearing from you. -HSW**

**

* * *

**

**A Bullet to the Head**

_Adapt or perish, now as ever, is nature's inexorable imperative. -H.G. Wells_

"You are not taking me off this case, Hotch."

"I wasn't even considering it." Hotch said entering the semi-large room with dark pink walls.

Spencer stood in the middle of the room, his head down and looking down at an old, worn out blue/gray elephant in his hands. He stood between a small glass top table with two multicolored striped cushions substituting as chairs for the small table. There were three open books on the table, with a notepad covered in small doodles and a few scribbled down chores.

The floor was wooden, white, with two rugs on the floor. One was pink shag, fuzzy and clean with an empty cat bed sitting in the middle of it. A ball of new yarn sat in the bed with a toy mouse just barely off to the side. It was a plain basket, with a dark purple blanket spread over the inside. Another was spread over the other side of the room, larger and rectangular but it matched the other circular one. The pattern on the rectangular was pink and gold loops and it wasn't shag just soft. It lay in front of the window seat with a purple cushion on the wood with green and pink pillows strewn across the seat. An extremely old and worn out copy of Lewis Carrols "Alice in Wonderland" was laid gently in the corner, propped up against the corner beside the window with blinds pulled up and pink, purple, and green see through curtains pulled to the side.

In the corner beside the windows seat was a tall lamp, with a light purple hood, and a small pink radio on the floor with three cds resting beside it and an art pad beside a pair of headphones. The sketch she had been working on was a portrait of her cat, playing with the ball of yarn.

Her bed was made neatly, almost perfectly. The fitted sheet was pink and the quilt was white with a green inside with white Fibonacci Spirals on the inside. There were eight pillows on the bed, three green, three pinks, and two white with pink, green, and purple circles. Her bed had built in drawers underneath the mattress, and a built in book shelf as the headboard that was filled with books and two pictures, One of herself and her little brother, and another of her graduating high school. Her bedside table matched the painted purple wood that made the full size bed. There were three notebooks in the first gap, and two psychology text books underneath. A tall green lamp stood on the table next to a red alarm clock. A matching book shelf was catty cornered in an opposing corner, with more books, a few bottles of nail polish and a lava lamp that matched the color scheme of her room. There was a dry erase board on the corner, with dates and times of classes and a few phone numbers.

Tacked onto the wall were test scores and papers that had perfect grades on them. Across the ceiling were multiple bright colored, circular lights that ranged from small to large. It gave the room a comfortably dim lighting. Her closet was open and full of bright colors just like her room, with scarves and bright jewelry and sneakers. There were jeans and jackets, multiple colors and jeans that ran from skinny to baggy. There were button up blouses and mismatched socks balled together inside sleeves of a shoe holder that attached to the back of her door.

Spencer shook his head, "The bright colors and the neatness… it's all faked. This is forced."

"She surrounded herself with bright colors and things that made her comfortable, things to make her appear normal, but she isn't."

"She tries to be… it's cluttered so she wouldn't feel alone. The pillows, the old stuffed animals, she was afraid of being alone."

Hotch nodded, "This was her safe haven."

Reid nodded, "I had a, uh, I had an elephant like this when I was a kid."

"Really?"

"My dad gave it to me; he said it was because I had the perfect memory."

"Maybe that's why he gave it to her, too."

"Maybe…" he said, "Hotch, could I-"

"Yeah, I don't think she'd mind."

He nodded and exited the room without another word.

00000000000

Rylee opened her eyes slowly and winced at the pain. She could feel the bruises forming on her inner thighs, and the scratch marks that marred her hips and lower back. She hissed as she forced herself to sit up, the chains that held her captive rattling and sliding against the concrete floor.

Her dark blue eyes narrowed and tried to force themselves to focus; making the throbbing headache she had even worse. She groaned and lifted a hand to her eye, "Hello?" she muttered, pain clear in her small voice, "Is anyone here? Hello?" she began to cry louder.

She shook, cold and hurting, "Hello?" she yelled out.

She looked around the room slowly, noticing mirrors on the left wall and water dripping down the right. There was a dim light coming from somewhere she couldn't see. The room was large; it reminded her of her old high school's gym. She was chained in what she guess was the center of the room, alone… very much alone.

She lifted her hand to her neck, but found no necklace. She choked a sob and pressed her knuckles against the bare, bruised skin between her collar bones. "SOMEONE HELP ME!" she screamed, before collapsing onto her stomach, "Please." She whimpered, not quite crying.

She rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped around her small stomach, "Imagine there's no countries…" she sang quietly, a few tears beginning to roll down her cheek, "It isn't hard to do…"

Her voice defiantly wasn't the best voice in the word, it was a bit too high and it didn't sound quite right, especially with the song she was singing, but it wasn't a terrible voice. Her voice shook with the tears as she began to cry.

00000000000000

"_Nothing to kill or die for… and no religion too…"_

"You're gonna want to hear this guys." Morgan said pressing a button on his phone, "Talk Garcia."

"The girl who got kidnapped-"

"Rylee." Spencer filled in quickly.

"She's still alive! The site that the first video was on just posted a live feed. I just sent it to your phone."

Morgan pressed another button and on the screen.

"_Imagine all the people," _

Spencer inhaled a bit and narrowed his eyes, she was hunched over and was singing quietly, the bruises were clear as the camera zoomed and recorded her image from her legs to her tear stained and bloody face.

"_Living life in peace, you." _Her voice cracked as she choked a sob.

"Garcia, can you trace it?" Hotch asked suddenly.

"I can try, but it's jumping all over the place."

"Rush it, she's family."

"What?" Morgan asked, looking at Hotch confused.

"She's my little sister." Spencer was able to choke out, "She's family."

They all fell silent as Hotch put a hand on Spencer's shoulder as he tightened his grip on the elephant.

"_You may call me a dreamer, but I'm not the only one… I hope someday you join us and the world will all be as one…" _She cried openly.

Spencer glared at it, "Shut it up."

_Action and reaction, ebb and flow, trial and error, change - this is the rhythm of living. Out of our over-confidence, fear; out of our fear, clearer vision, fresh hope. And out of hope, progress. _

_-Bruce Barton__  
_


	3. Chapter 3

**A Bullet to the Head**

_Agatha Christie once said, "Crime is terribly revealing. Try to vary your methods as you will, your tastes, your habits, your attitude of mind, and your soul are revealed by your actions."_

Spencer narrowed his eyes at the glass board in front of him. The pictures of the crime scenes were set up in columns underneath the main victims, the girls, pictures. The girls all wore a striking resemblance to one another, hauntingly so. The only difference between them all was the color of their eyes. He saw that the first girl had deep, jade green eyes and she had lasted the longest alive. The second, who had dark blue eyes, lasted the shortest. The third victim had brown eyes and lasted almost 3 weeks, the fourth who had blue eyes lasted a week. The fifth with faded green eyes lasted two days shy of a month. The first victim had lasted a day shy of a month. He favored green eyes, which meant the girls were picked because of how they looked to represent someone from his past. But the eye color hinted that who he was remembering was lost a long time ago and he was forgetting what she looked like. There was a good chance that the girl he missed so much had green eyes because those girls lasted the longest.

A look into the girls past, thanks to their school records and help from Garcia, revealed that they all possessed above-average intelligence. His younger sister, he discovered with a swell of pride, was the smartest out of all of them. She had graduated high school at thirteen, and finished college the first time at seventeen, getting a bachelors degree in Criminology. A year later she had received her Master's Degree in Criminology, immediately after she entered medical school and was one year of school away from signing M.D. after her name. She was doing her first year of internship at a nearby Mental Institution; she had focused her efforts on psychology while in med school. She wanted to be a psychiatrist for the criminally insane from the looks of it.

He shook his head, he needed to stay on track. He didn't have enough information to guess what the stressor could have been, but he knew that whatever caused this happened when the unsub was younger… Possibly around the time he was in college or high school, going by the age of the girls he kidnapped. All the girls were either out of college or finishing up with it. He was missing something. Reid narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin, he was trying to bring someone back to him…

His phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Nine."

"Excuse me?"

"There were nine victims."

"What?"

"I found three other unsolved murders of entire families from back in 1997. The entire family was slaughtered, the youngest daughter missing, then later she would be found later back at the scene of the initial attack, all except one."

"One?"

"Yeah, she was never found." Garcia said, a morbid tone in her voice.

"How long did each of the girls last?"

"The very first victim lasted three weeks, the second two weeks, and the third was never found."

"What color were their eyes?"

"They all had green eyes."

Reid closed his eyes, "Thanks Garcia."

"Of course, my love."

Spencer closed the phone as Hotch walked up behind him, "Garcia found three more victims from the late 90s and I found the pattern."

Hotch nodded, urging him to continue as he handed him a cup of coffee filled with sugar.

"Their eyes, the girls with green eyes last longer than any other color. The victims that Garcia found all had green eyes, and one girl was never found. I think that he lost someone while he was in college or high school. So he tried to replace her with girls that looked like her, but as time went by he began to forget things about her. There's a possibility that the last girl was never found because she was able to fulfill the delusion until he began to forget the girl he lost and started to doubt the girl in front of him. He probably killed her before the first victim after the gap was taken, he forgot her eye color but he knows which on it's not."

"Which is?"

"The girls with blue eyes survive the shortest amount of time."

"Rylee has blue eyes."

Spencer nodded looking back at his sisters' picture, "The longest someone with blue eyes has lasted is a week, the shortest was three days."

Hotch put a comforting hand on Spencer's shoulder, "We'll find her."

He nodded slowly.

"Ready to give the profile?"

Spencer turned back around to face him and nodded, not looking at Hotch but at the worn out elephant on the desk.

"The man we're looking for is 34 to 39 years old, he's probably got underlying psychological disorders. He suffered severe trauma during his last few years of college or the two years after that."

"How can you tell that?" One of the male cops asked raising his hand briefly.

Spencer took a deep breath, "The girls that he took, including the victims from the 90s, were all around the ages of 21 to 26. He's trying to recreate a person from his past that he lost; he wouldn't take the girls who didn't match the image in his head of the person he lost."

"So we can assume that he was around the same age as the women he abducts when the stressor happened."

"If he kidnapped and killed 3 girls in the 90s then stopped, why'd he start again?"

"We think that the last girl he kidnapped, Delilah Dagan, probably suffered from Stockholm syndrome and was able to successfully indulge his fantasy that the girl he lost was still alive. We can also assume it was a romantic interest that was killed or left him because of the sexual charge in his actions. As time passed the fantasy faded and he began to see Delilah and not his dead girlfriend or wife. Finally something happened and she broke the illusion, or he broke it for her. He killed her and went in search of another victim."

"Why haven't we found her body?"

"Delilah's old home, where she was taken from, burned down in 2004. Nothing was ever put in its place." Spencer filled in.

"I'd suggest getting a team of dogs out there and searching the surrounding area, she's probably there." Morgan said with a nod.

"Why does he kill the entire family?" The chief of police asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

"They're an obstacle between his fantasy and reality. He has to get rid of them so his fantasy can begin."

"Why does he post it online?"

Emily spoke up, "His loved one was probably into the movies and Hollywood. Possibly an actress or a singer, she had big dreams. We think she may have left town to pursue those dreams, but was killed somehow during her chase. This is more than likely what caused the original kidnappings. Posting them online is his way of making her famous; he probably had video tapes or pictures that were his way of immortalizing his lover. He may have even tried to send them to agencies in Atlanta or even Hollywood, but after he killed them he would have destroyed them."

"This man will never stop, unless we can find him and get him help. He has severe separation and abandonment issues and will more than likely put up a sever fight if we try to take Rylee away from him or him away from her. He will become very violent, very fast." Morgan said, adjusting his leaning position on a desk.

"This man is, as you saw from the picture, well built and very active. He's strong and he knows it, though as long as Rylee holds up the illusion that she is his dead lover, he won't hurt a fly. Everything he does to her, he thinks he's doing for her own good and he'll only become violent if the fantasy begins to shatter." Hotch continued, "This man probably lived here during his childhood until he graduated high school. He probably went out of town to college, but then came back for about a month. There's a chance he left with Delilah after. He probably lives in a small home or trailer in a very isolated, even abandoned area. He blends in and he isn't easy to pick out of a crowd. He appears to be an average guy and he more than likely wears a class ring."

"Rylee is in an extremely dangerous position; it is much easier for her to break his illusion because his original lovers' eyes were green. He knows this on some level but self doubt is making him question her eye color, on some level he also knows that her eyes were not blue. Rylee's are, which means he'll come to the realization sooner that she isn't his girlfriend. The longest a girl with blue eyes has lasted is a week, the shortest was three days."

"So let's find her fast." Hotch finished for Spencer, and watching as the officers, all ten of them, left the room. He glanced over at the young genius as he walked over to the table and picked up the elephant.

Hotch sighed and looked away.

_Let us not look back in anger, Nor forward in fear, but Around in awareness. –James Thurbur_


	4. Chapter 4

**A Bullet to the Head**

_In Dreamcatcher, Stephen King wrote: "We don't know the days that will change our lives. Probably, just as well." _

"Hey, love, how are you holding up?"

Spencer sighed and adjusted the phone against his ear, "It's been a long day."

"I know, but hey I think I found something that might cheer you up."

"Garcia, I really don't have time for-"

"Your sister keeps a vlog, there's one a week for the past 4 months at least. There may be something that could help."

Spencer nodded, "Can you-"

"Already sent, they should be arriving on the laptop any second."

"Thanks, Garcia."

"Of course, my darling." She said as she clicked the line off.

Spencer sat down in front of the computer and opened the first file.

"Of course, I'm packing mom! What else would I be doing?" Rylee yelled, her head tilted slightly away from the camera, but her gaze turned towards it. She had a look on her face that was a mixture between humor and an excitement that sprouted from either not doing what she was suppose to or whatever she was packing for.

She turned her full attention back to the screen, "Okay, so, as you heard I'm supposed to be packing but someone-", she paused for a moment to glare over the top of the camera, and a muffled giggle sneaked into the audio, "has decided it would be a good idea for me to actually do the vlog we started. Her excuse is that we'll be able to keep in touch while I'm interning, but the phone has worked well up until this point. So I think it's-", there was a shuffling off camera, "just to embarrass me."

"No!" a red head plopped down beside her, both girls were laying on their stomachs in front of the camera, "It's because little miss genius right here," Rylee rolled her eyes and looked away as her nameless friend nudged her, "Is going off to Central State Hospital in Milledgeville. Milledgeville! So not only is she going to a different hospital, she's going to a different hospital Hours away from me! Her best friend!"

"Okay, Best Friend," Rylee said turning a glare on her, but it was merely playful there was no malice behind it, "Why don't you let me finish my video for my blog."

"Go right ahead." She said waving a hand, as if in invitation.

"You're in my shot."

"The shot is better with me in it."

"Cassidy, if you don't-"

"What? What will you do?" the red head said with eyebrows raised.

"I'll start talking in big words that you don't understand."

Spencer snickered as Cassidy fell silent and slowly got up and walked back around the computer.

"You know," Rylee said, looking away from her friend and at the camera, "Sometimes it's good to be a genius." A purple pillow was tossed at her head, and the video cut off amidst her laughter.

"What's that?" a voice behind him said.

"Rylee apparently kept a vlog, Garcia found it. She posted this one four months ago."

Morgan leaned over his shoulder to look at the frozen image on the screen; she was holding the pillow down enough to see her face that was alight with laughter and innocent happiness, "How many more are there?"

"At least sixteen." Spencer said, minimizing the video to find the next one, "There was another girl in this one, Cassidy. Has she come up in anything?"

"They worked together at Emory, where they were going to school. JJ talked to her on the phone, they were apparently pretty good friends."

Spencer nodded, "From the looks of this, I'd say they really were."

Morgan pulled up a chair, "Well, let's see what else she can tell us."

0000

Rylee had maneuvered herself so she could lie on her back, her hands chained above her head with her elbows bent. Her forehead rested against her bicep, and her eyes were closed as she slept in fitful exhaustion. Her face and clothes were dirty, and her face was shiny with sweat. Her brows were furrowed together and she twitched occasionally, her fingers flexing and relaxing.

A large hand moved to grip her ribs gently, a thumb moving the cotton of her shirt in a gentle swipe. Rylee began to awaken as the hand slid lower and lifted her shirt, revealing her small frame beneath it. She bit her lip and turned her head away, whimpering hoarsely. She opened her eyes and they fell on a tripod, holding a camera with a red light glaring through the dimly lit room. Her eyes grew wide with tears, "Help Me." She whispered before she closed her eyes with pain and cried out.

00000

JJ had turned away from the video, Hotch and Morgan's jaws were both set, Spencer was gripping his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white but he wasn't looking away. He was doing his best not to watch, but to look for anything that could help.

"There." He said lunging forward and pressing the pause button, "He's got a tattoo on the back of his neck."

Morgan was on his cell phone in an instant, Hotch and Rossi were in search of the sheriff, and Spencer had averted his gaze from the computer.

"Adam Xolani had a tattoo like that." The Southern drawl said, the local sheriff looking at the computer, "But he moved outta the state after he graduated high school, hasn't been back since."

"Did he have a girlfriend in high school? They may have left together." Rossi asked, giving the Sheriff one of those looks.

"No, he wasn't one for dating. There was a girl though, a good friend of his. I think they were going to college together."

"Where did he live before he left?"

"Off the main road, but his dad had a cabin up in the woods near the old gym."

"An old gym would fit the background of the videos." Spencer said standing from his chair.

"I'll call the deputies and the fire department."

"_The easiest period in a crisis situation is actually the battle itself. The most difficult is the period of indecision - whether to fight or run away. And the most dangerous period is the aftermath. It is then, with all his resources spent and his guard down, that an individual must watch out for dulled reactions and faulty judgment." -Richard M. Nixon_


	5. Chapter 5

**A Bullet****in the Head**

_Douglas Adams once wrote: "I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."_

She was curled up in a ball, her neck chained to the floor, and she wasn't moving. Hotch and Morgan were the two to approach her as the other officers kept their guns trained around the room. It was large and very open, but only one hallway with bathrooms and an office. Hotch knelt beside her and checked her pulse, it was there.

"Rylee?" he asked gently, placing a hand on her cheek, "Rylee, wake up."

Her blue eyes opened slowly, narrowing weakly.

"My name's Aaron Hotchner, I'm from the FBI, you're safe now. Is he here?"

"No." she muttered hoarsely, "No, he said he was gone to work." She said, forcing her voice to sound stronger.

He nodded slowly, "Alright, the paramedics are going to check you out and they're going to get you out of this thing, okay?"

She tried to nod, "Will you stay?"

"Of course." He said with a nod, "Morgan-"

"Got it." Derek nodded and exited the building, sending the paramedics in.

000000

"We're going to have to drill the lock, it should pop open after that."

"Is it going to hurt her?" Hotch asked looking at the firefighter that knelt on the opposite side of her.

The firefighter didn't answer, only nodded slightly, as he was handed the drill, "Miss Reid, this shouldn't be extremely painful. You're just going to feel a strong vibration and it's going to be very loud for a few minutes. It's steel, so it shouldn't take too long."

Hotch wordlessly took her hand and nodded at her when she looked at him.

The drilling stop and she shut her eyes tightly, tears quickly forming. She cried out as an exceptionally high squeal erupted from the drill, it was like having her teeth drilled. Her molars ached and the vibration irritated the already bruised skin beneath the metal collar. She gripped Hotch's hand tighter and bit down on her lip as hard as she could to keep from screaming.

Hotch knew that talking to her wouldn't do much good, since he could barely hear her cry over the screams of the drill. The first minute passed by with agonizing slowness, the second was much the same but this set of 60 made her openly sob. The collar popped near the end of the three minute mark and she turned toward him, her sobs silently echoing through the gym. The paramedic, a small young girl, but the only one in the town, gave her a quick check to make sure it was safe to lift her.

"Could you help me get her on the stretcher, she doesn't have any back or neck injuries that I can see but try not to jostle her."

Hotch nodded and gently scooped her up, placing her on the stretcher as gently as possible, "They're going to take you to the hospital, I'm going to send one of my agents with you to make sure you stay safe."

"Why can't you go?" she asked, her voice cracking, as the paramedic strapped her onto the stretcher.

"I have to catch the man who did this to you, I'll check up on you though if you want."

She winced as the sun hit her and she unconsciously took a deep breath, looking around as best she could. There were flashing lights, and people talking, and she thought she saw a camera flashing. She closed her eyes and turned her head away from the chaos.

"Reid." Hotch said, walking a few steps away from the stretcher as it neared the ambulance, "I want you to go to the hospital with her."

Spencer looked towards the ambulance, "Hotch, I don't-"

"Spencer, she may be put in ICU and the only people they allow in ICU are family. You're all she's got left."

Spencer looked towards the ambulance once more, then down at the little elephant in his hand, "Alright, but I need a laptop as soon as possible."

"I'll have JJ bring one to you."

"Thanks, Hotch." Spencer said with a nod, his eyes focused on the ambulance as he began to walk toward it.

"You one of them?" the paramedic asked as he climbed inside.

He nodded, "Yeah, I'm, uh, Dr. Spencer Reid."

"We don't have a hospital in town, at least not one with what she needs so I called in a helicopter. They said they should be here in ten."

He nodded and looked down at the stretcher, "Rylee, did you hear that?"

"Yeah." She whispered softly as the paramedic placed a piece of gauze to the open wound on her temple, "Your last names Reid."

"Yeah."

"So is mine." She said looking at him, before she forced a giggle with a cough, "I have glasses like that."

He smiled, "We have a lot in common, Oh!" he looked down at the elephant in his hands, "I found this in your room, I used to have one just like it. Thought you could use it."

She smiled as he placed in next to her hand, but was surprised when she reached for him instead, "My cats name was Spencer… My Dad named it." she said weakly, "I never thought you actually existed."

Spencer narrowed his eyes, confused, "What?"

"You're-" her words faded away as the paramedic pressed the drugs into the IV on her arm.

"Sorry," she began, "The pain killers will make her really drowsy-"

"No, she needs the sleep. I can ask her when she wakes up. I'm not going anywhere." Spencer said, gently running his thumb over her hand as he watched his sister sleep.

"_Love Takes Up Where Knowledge Leaves Off." -Saint Thomas Aquinas_


	6. Chapter 6

A Bullet to the Head

"The Truth is a beautiful thing and a terrible thing and therefore should be treated with caution." -J.K. Rowling

She looked so tiny. And pale, she was so pale. But if she was troubled, or aware of how tiny and pale she was, it wasn't apparent on her peaceful face. Rylee had been sleep for close to ten hours now and Spencer had been by her side the entire time. She hadn't woken up yet, and Spencer was partially thankful for that. If she kept sleeping, maybe he wouldn't have to tell her that the man who had kidnapped her was still out there and that the team had absolutely no leads.

A nurse knocked gently before stepping through the open door to check on Rylee. She was gripping her worn out elephant with one arm while the other rested limply at her side with an IV pushing fluids into her system.

"How is she?"

"Just sleeping." The nurse answered with a kind smile, "She'll wake up when she's ready to."

Spencer nodded as the nurse finished her tasks with Rylee and went calmly onto the next patient. When she was gone, Spencer laid a hand over his sisters and sighed, "Please, Rylee, if you can hear me, keep sleeping. And please, please don't dream."

Rylee shifted a little against her pillow.

00000

"Tell me we got something." Morgan said, running a hand over his head, "People don't disappear."

"That's all this guys done for years, Morgan."

Hotch stood in front of one of the whiteboards, staring at Spencer's handwriting.

Xolani had completely vanished off the map after they had taken Rylee back. But they could trust that he wouldn't stop, he was far too deep in his delusions. There were three paths that Xolani could take, the first would be to go after Rylee. The second would be to take yet another girl. The third was to have a complete psychological break down because he had once again been 'left' as he may see it, by the girl of his dreams.

"We've got guards on Rylee's room, right?" Prentiss asked, glancing up from the file was reading.

"Just a uniform cop and Spencer."

"Send another uniform over." Hotch said suddenly, "I want two on her door until we catch Xolani." he turned to face his team, "JJ make sure the media and police from all the surrounding counties have his picture and information, keep it circulating. He's gonna show his face somewhere."

JJ nodded and turned, leaving the room to follow her orders, with her phone already at her ear.

"What do we do now, Hotch?" Morgan asked, standing up.

"We wait." Hotch answered before turning to Prentiss, "Any word from Spencer?"

"Not for a while."

Hotch grabbed his jacket, "I'm going to see if Rylee found something we haven't seen yet, you two stay here and see what you can find, anything we might have missed. And keep an eye on patrols, if he's looking for Rylee or another girl, he's around here. If not, we'll know soon enough."

Morgan nodded, "Be careful, Hotch." he said before turning back to his files, Prentiss doing the same.

00000

Rylee had screamed and lashed out when she woke up. Spencer had received a scratch to the side of his face as he had tried to calm her while yelling for the nurse. Her nails drew blood across his cheek, but he was able to hold her still and slightly bring her back to reality before the nurses got there. It took them a few seconds to inject another dose of the drug that put her to sleep, but she fell asleep looking at Spencer with confused eyes and holding his hand.

The nurse then strapped Rylee's arms to the bed and checked the cuts on Spencer's face before leaving the room, telling him that the doctor would come in to check on her soon. Spencer rubbed the back of her captive hand with his thumb and watched her almost fitful sleep.

"Rylee, you're not with him any more." he whispered, leaning closer, "You're safe, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise. Please, Rylee. You're okay..." He wasn't sure why he was speaking to her, knowing she probably couldn't hear him, but he thought that maybe she could and maybe it was making him feel a little bit better to.

"How is she?" a strong voice from behind him asked.

"She woke up about fifteen minutes ago." Spencer sighed, "It, uh, didn't go so well."

"Are those from her?" he asked, motioning to the three long red lines down his cheeks.

"Yeah... they have the braces on her wrists now."

"Probably from her good as much as yours."

Spencer nodded, "Have you found anything?"

Hotch shook his head, "I'm afraid not. Did she say anything?"

"She hasn't been awake long enough to say anything." Spencer looked up at his boss, "What's the plan?"

Hotch sighed a little and took a seat on the other side of Rylee's bed, "We wait."

Spencer sighed and rubbed his eyes, the machines in Rylee's room beeping in the background.


End file.
